New York City, Three Years Later
The line of eager customers and press stretched an entire city block. The sun was just beginning to set on the late spring evening, and the barricades on East Fifty-Third Street had been in place since noon. Gemma stepped out of the Lincoln Town Car and was immediately met by a security guard in a dark suit and wearing an earpiece. The entrance to Pavlin & Co was a yard away. With the swarm of photographers it seemed unreachable.
She pulled up the hem of her long white dress, keeping it from sweeping the ground. It was asymmetrical and wrapped over her left shoulder, with an embroidered butterfly above her heart. It had been designed by her intern, a current NYSD student. The dress was her award-winning final project.
“Gemma!” Elodie called, stepping out of her own car, followed by Tito. “What a spectacle,” she said. She looked flustered, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead, her pale blue St. John shift dress rumpled from the short drive from Park Avenue. The sight of Tito in a suit put a smile on her face despite the frenzy around her; he hadn’t even worn a suit at their beach wedding last summer.
“I’m honored you got so dressed up for the occasion,” Gemma said to him.
“It’s your big night,” he said. “Both of yours.”
Elodie gave her a wink. She was one of the few people who knew it was only the second biggest night Gemma was having that week.
Security hustled them to the front of the store, past the windows with the deep green awnings, under the limestone archway engraved with the family name.
Inside, the vast showroom had been arranged with seating for the press, where her NYSD friend Mae Yang, now an editor at New York magazine, sat in the front row. Gemma gave her a wave, thinking about the borrowed press credentials that set everything in motion.
Displays of jewelry open on tables flanked the speaker’s podium. In a break from custom, they weren’t encased in glass. Gemma wanted people to be able to touch and feel and connect with the pieces—her first for Pavlin & Co as the lead designer.
The collection was called Gilded Butterfly, a celebration of precious metals and their versatility in conveying design. Every piece could be personalized, and some necklaces could be mixed and matched. The pieces ranged from affordable (a chunky sterling silver necklace chain) to extravagant (a twenty-four-karat gold cuff bracelet). Gemma’s favorite pieces were the stacked rings, sleek and modern in brushed metals. Here, too, they had affordable single rings that could be collected over time for the dramatic look of half a dozen on a finger. On the higher end, customers could buy pave diamond versions with upcycled stones. The important thing was, there was something for everyone. A philosophy cemented by the company’s first new tagline in seventy years: “Treat Yourself Like Gold.”
Gemma’s decision to work for Pavlin & Co had, ultimately, been a simple one. It was what she wanted. And then, one night over drinks with Elodie at the Carlyle, she learned she wasn’t the only one who wanted it all along. “I finally realize why my mother made you one of the signatories on the private collection,” Elodie said.
“So you couldn’t sell?” Gemma said.
“No. She wanted you to be at Pavlin & Co. She knew it was your rightful place, even when I didn’t want to see it.”
Yes, GEMMA the brand had been her own. But Pavlin & Co was bigger than herself. And she knew she had the vision to bring it into the future and ensure that it was around for many generations to come.
The door opened again, revealing a frazzled-looking Celeste.
“Goodness. That was . . . challenging,” she said, leaning against the closed door as if warding off a tornado. “Jack’s looking for parking.”
“Are we ready, Gemma?” asked security. She glanced over at Elodie and she gave a nod.
With that, the front doors were opened and the press flooded in like weary travelers discovering a roadside all-you-can-eat buffet. She knew Sanjay would have loved to be taking photos himself. But tonight, he wasn’t a photographer. Tonight, he was her fiancé, and she needed him by her side.
He proposed just two nights earlier. She didn’t see it coming. Sure, they’d been living together for the past year, and he photographed the new ad campaign for Pavlin & Co, and they were madly in love. But that evening, she was so stressed about the impending launch, she barely mustered the enthusiasm to go along with his idea to take a walk.
They strolled the East River promenade past Carl Schurz Park. It was one of those perfect spring evenings, with the tulip beds in bloom and the sunlight hitting the river in a way that made it look as dazzling as a Swiss lake. They were almost at Gracie Mansion when Sanjay got down on the ground. She thought at first that he’d dropped something, but then he looked up at her with those deep dark eyes that had become her home.
“Gemma,” he said. At that point, the joggers, bikers, and parents pushing strollers realized what was happening and stopped to watch. Sanjay handed her a ring box. She opened it and gasped.
A pink diamond eternity band. The pink diamond eternity band.
“How is this possible? I tossed this into the ocean . . .”
Sanjay smiled. “Your aunt Celeste knew that the tide would bring it right back that night. Something about a full moon? She said she couldn’t let you throw it away just to make her feel better.”
“How long have you known she had it?” Gemma said, barely able to process the fact that he’d proposed, never mind the reappearance of the ring she thought was gone forever.
“Only since I told her I wanted to ask you to marry me. She said she’d been saving it for that very moment.”
When he slipped the ring on her finger, onlookers clapped and whistled. And when he said, “Will you marry me?” she barely managed to breathe out the word yes.
She was still on a high from it, reliving it over and over in her mind. But tonight was about work.
As the press filled in their cordoned-off seats, Gemma and her aunts discussed their positions on the podium. A familiar redhead pushed her way to the front of the crowd.
“I need a shot of the three of you,” said Regan O’Rourke. Gemma obliged, acutely aware that she was standing in the spot where she’d first stood with her mother as a child, now wearing the engagement ring that was a piece of her mother’s, flanked by Elodie and Celeste.
She smiled for Regan O’Rourke. And then it was time to address the room.
Elodie and Celeste moved to one side, leaving Gemma alone in the spotlight. She thought, briefly, of the night of her graduation, when she stood in front of the audience feeling so alone.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight to celebrate. A special thank-you to my aunt Elodie Pavlin for carrying on the family legacy all these years and now inviting me to design in this new era of Pavlin & Co.” She turned to look at her aunt standing beside her and saw the glimmer of tears in her bright eyes. Gemma swallowed hard and turned back to the crowd. “I dedicate this debut collection, Gilded Butterfly, to my mother, Paulina. She loved butterflies, and I embrace them as the perfect symbol of change . . . of metamorphosis. Pavlin & Co is now in its second century. The world is a different place, but jewelry remains a vital part of celebrating our milestones. My hope for the Gilded Butterfly collection is that a ring or necklace is the first piece of jewelry someone buys for themselves and never takes off. I hope people come back to Gilded Butterfly throughout their lives, for birthdays and graduations, for job successes, and yes, for engagements. My great-grandfather famously said that ‘a diamond says love,’ and I believe true love begins with ourselves. So, without further ado, I introduce you to Gilded Butterfly. Treat yourself like gold.”
The room erupted in applause. Sanjay, seated in the front row, gave her a thumbs-up. She was instantly brought back to the moment at college graduation when she’d looked out at the audience and he’d given her the same gesture. But now, he wasn’t the only one in the audience who cared about her.
She was surrounded by love.